A New Chance
by NoStoryLeftUntold
Summary: After dying in a fiery explosion, Rachel Dawes is presumed dead by everyone. But after being brought back via science experiment, how will Rachel handle her new chance to fix what went wrong? Superman crossover. HxR, BxR, even some SxR and SxL.
1. Chapter 1

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A New Chance

**by NoStoryLeftUntold**

_After dying in a fiery explosion, Rachel Dawes is presumed dead by everyone. But after being brought back via science experiment, how will Rachel handle her new chance to fix what went wrong? Superman crossover. HxR, BxR, even some SxR and SxL._

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The first thing Rachel remembered when she opened her eyes was her final thoughts, continuing on because they'd never gotten finished, not even realizing she should be dead and probably not even conscious at all. She was cold, every part of her shrinking in the near-freezing atmosphere, and she could hear noise—machinery?—in the background. But that was not important right now. Her head felt strange, light, a stark contrast to her arms and legs, which seemed as though they were filled with lead. But it didn't matter. She needed to finish.

"_Harvey, some—"_

_Suddenly, intense heat engulfed her body and her last few seconds of consciousness were spent, flames bursting before her eyes in a marvelous display of orange and red, so beautiful, even if it was killing her…2_

"—how this will all be okay," she whispered quietly. Harsh, bright light shone from above, and even though her eyes hurt somehow it seemed like a blessing to see, and inside she was vastly relieved she didn't just turn into nothingness after death. That would have been a shame. "This must be some sort of heaven," She said. Someone chuckled.

"Not quite."

Rachel felt her hair stand on end. That voice…she knew it somehow. It was familiar, deep and condescending, always speaking as though it were better, and didn't want to waste much time talking to you. She racked her mind, trying to remember where she had heard it. She wasn't too concerned with what the voice said—she hadn't even noticed, really. It was the sound, the tone of the voice, that triggered a memory from somewhere within her and it annoyed her greatly how she couldn't recognize whose it was.

"Miss Dawes, are you capable of movement?" The voice asked. Rachel blinked, finally taking in the words, not realizing the voice had been speaking the entire time.

"I don't know," She said. "My arms and legs feel so heavy…"

"As is to be expected. Don't be alarmed; we don't want your heart rate to climb too quickly, now would we? So quickly after resurrection could lead to a heart attack…"

"Resurrection?!" Rachel instantly sat up (she had been lying on some sort of examining table, she noticed), jerking her head in the direction of the voice. What did that mean? Every muscle ached as she used it, feeling as though she had not used them in a long time. But the pain could be ignored—she knew who it was now.

The bald man stood behind a wall of glass. There was a speaker on the ceiling, and a door to the right. Everything was so sterile, it was almost depressing. Like a hospital. Behind the man were a few doctors, all wearing goggles and other protective gear, writing furiously in folders while glancing back up every few seconds. They all appeared to be in some sort of lab, a testing facility.

The man, of course, was Lex Luthor. She'd heard him on television before, the wealthy owner of LexCorp in Metropolis. He intended on running for president, last time she heard. There was something about him…in his eyes, his voice, that set her on edge. He stood there, dressed finely in a well-pressed suit, an odd sort of smile on his face. She tensed, even though her limbs throbbed in protest. Whatever this was, it could not be good. She couldn't stop thinking about the explosion, the moments before, how much it shook her when she heard Harvey scream on the other end, _'No, not me! Rachel! Go get Rachel!'_, and it hit her that she was going to die, but a bit of her heart couldn't help but swell in pride as she took comfort in the fact that Bruce made the right choice. It all stayed with her, and even as she tried to assess the situation before her she couldn't help but keep coming back to it. Suddenly, white-hot pained washed over her body, and she closed her eyes tight and gripped hard on the sides of the table, waiting for it to pass. What was that? It felt as though she were _burning_.

"It's typical for you to feel the pain you felt as you died for a while," Luthor spoke again. "Don't worry, it'll stop soon enough. In fact, don't be surprised if you keep on reliving your death for the next couple of weeks."

Rachel relaxed as the pain left her body, exhaling slowly. She opened an eye and glanced at Luthor.

"What do you mean, resurrection?" She asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" This time, his tone was bored, exasperated, as though she had asked if the sky were blue, or the rain wet. "You were dead, and we brought you back to life. Very efficiently, too. It wasn't that terribly messy at all."

"But how?" Rachel asked, confused. "I died in an explosion, my body should've—"

"Been blown to bits?" Luthor raised his eyebrows. "Honestly, it wasn't that bad. Just a finger missing here, an ear there, a chunk of your leg…not that horrible. I've seen worse. All we had to do was implant the computer chip in your brain, spark a bit of electricity to start it up again, and let your body regenerate what it had lost. The process took a few weeks, but it was worth it." He looked at her, proudly, and smiled. "I've invented a way to bring the dead back to life."

"Regenerate…" She failed to grasp the concept. Humans couldn't regenerate lost body parts. That was impossible, of course. She knew starfish could regenerate, and certain kinds of lizards, but if she had been brought back from the dead who knew where the line between dreams and reality lay now?

"The chip is sort of a cure-all," Luthor explained. "Whatever is wrong with you, it can fix. Lose a limb? You can regenerate it. Break a bone? It'll heal quicker than they can get you to the hospital. It can also recognize every bacterium out there that can make you ill and be able to fight it off. We haven't quite perfected the virus part, yet, though…"

Rachel could only stare. What they had done to her was something that should only be possible in some fifty-cent cheap superhero comic, but yet it was very, very real. Suddenly, she felt a rush of joy as she realized, _'I can see Mom and Bruce and Alfred and Harvey again…'_

No. The thought struck her, but she immediately shot it down, because no matter how much she wanted to…

She couldn't.

She'd been gone for weeks, and as far as they knew, she was dead, and she couldn't just show up and pretend as though nothing had happened. She was probably buried, although, didn't they notice the absence of her body? Was the coffin that went in her grave empty, or…or did someone else rest there? She shuddered. Right now, someone could be mourning her but all they'd truly be mourning was the body of someone who lay in the wrong grave. How horrible it must be, to have people miss you, but not _really_, obviously you couldn't be that important if someone didn't care about you enough to put you to rest in the wrong grave.

And, oh God, how she hoped Alfred hadn't given Bruce that letter. It was stupid, and impulsive, and the thought of him reading it and hating her for it broke her heart. She hadn't meant a word, but yet the news of her last wish to marry Harvey wouldn't leave him with very fond memories of her either, did it?

Harvey. He must be going through even worse hell than Bruce. Harvey treasured her, whispering stupid romantic things like how she was a ray of sunshine in the dark city, and she would blush and tell him to stop, but what she wanted more than anything right now was to hear him say that once more. And to think, she could never see anyone she'd cared about ever again…

"Miss Dawes, are you even listening?" Luthor asked, obviously annoyed and displeased. He'd been talking again, but she took in none of it. Rachel shook her head.

"I'm sorry," She said. "But what's going to happen to me? I can't go back to Gotham…can I?"

"You're going to stay here, Miss Dawes, as I have already stated. Being the first person resurrected after being blown up, we have a series of tests to run on you to see just how well the chip works, what your limits are, etcetera."

"I'm going to be tested?!" The very idea was barbaric! She couldn't believe her ears; would they really _do_ something like that?! "Like…some sort of _science_ experiment—"

"I assure you, this _is_ a science experiment." Luther said. "Besides, we can't let a woman who everyone thinks is dead run around, clearly alive and well, now can we?"

"But—but—" Rachel was spluttering. She couldn't believe it! She couldn't live like this! What would happen to her? Would she never see outside again, or talk to someone other than this wretched man?

"I'm afraid, Miss Dawes, I must bid you good night. It's quite late." Luthor smirked, beginning to walk towards the exit with the group of scientists following him. "I'll see you in the morning."

"No!" Rachel cried. She jumped off the examining table, beating her fists on the glass, when—

Everything went completely dark.

She froze, stiffening, not a clue on what she should do. She felt defeated, hopeless; what good was this second chance if all she was ever going to do with it was serving as Lex Luthor's lab rat? Suddenly, she felt her eyes grow wet as she realized she was beginning to cry.

'No, stop it,' She thought, rubbing her eyes. 'You can't cry. Not now, not here. You have to be strong.'

To be honest, there were many times in Rachel's life that all she wanted to do was cry. But she never could; everyone was always _watching_ her, and she thought that if she cried in front of them she was being weak. She had no idea where the notion had come from, but it had been deeply instilled in her since before she could remember. The last time had been only seconds before her death, still seared into her mind. She grimaced again as another wave of burning pain rushed over her. It didn't last so long this time, only a few seconds less, but it still seemed like an eternity. In her mind's eye, she could see the flames, and Harvey's screams rang in her ears. Rachel fell to the floor, holding her head as she let through one sob, trying so hard to get the memory out but nothing worked..

She stayed like that, for what seemed like hours. She wanted to go home so badly that it hurt even worse, a knot twisting inside her stomach. She wanted to go to her apartment she shared with Harvey, kiss him just once more, sleep in her own bed and wake up and eat a bowl of the artificially colored and flavored cereal Harvey loved but she hated; he'd always argue with her on how good it was. Right now it didn't seem so bad at all.

She wanted to see her mother again, in her little house in the suburbs right outside of Gotham. She wanted to help her in the garden, listen to her ramble on about what was happening on her favorite soap opera, maybe even go out and buy her groceries again. Everything in her old life that seemed normal and mundane, everything she did in exasperation or that she took for granted—she wanted so badly just to go through it all one more time.

Rachel thought of Bruce, wishing to hear his voice and the feeling of his lips on hers, but she tried to forget about him the second he appeared in her mind. She couldn't regret or look back on what might have been—she'd made her choice, and it had been Harvey. There was no way she and Bruce could ever really make it work, because Gotham would always need Batman no matter how much he denied and she would never have the Bruce she'd originally fallen in love with back. She was much better off with Harvey, who was not afraid to show his true emotions, who was stable and who she knew loved her more than anything, even Gotham. He had shown that when he was convinced that they would come for Rachel and leave him, because in his mind that was the right thing to do. Rachel wouldn't ask Bruce to give up fighting for Gotham, or to love her more than the city (she often thought that nothing could compare to that), just so they could be together. It wouldn't be fair of her.

_Click._

That was the door. Rachel looked out into the darkness. Had Luthor come back? Was it morning already? It couldn't be…

The door shut behind, another _click_, and a beam of light appeared. Rachel could barely see the silhouette of the woman holding the flashlight, dressed in a blouse and skirt with a purse strung over her shoulder. In the woman's other hand was a digital camera. Rachel stood up, trying to get a better look. The woman walked through the lab, taking pictures of some of the hi-tech equipment and occasionally taking a notepad and pen out of her purse and scribbling something down.

Rachel was completely silent, not sure of what to do. She was obviously some kind of investigative reporter, but…had word gotten out of Luthor's experiments to bring the dead back to life? Was that what this woman was here to discover? The woman neared the glass wall, still oblivious to Rachel. She hoped no one caught her—if more people discovered what Luthor was doing, she'd be rescued for sure. Also, for the sake of the woman; it couldn't be pretty what Luthor did to those he found snooping. She watched the woman, coming closer with each minute, and could feel her heart beating hard against her chest. Hadn't Luthor said that too high of a heart rate could give her a heart attack? She tried to calm down a bit, breathing more slowly and more quietly. The woman was clearly very nervous; she often jumped a bit at the slightest noises, ones most people might just disregard.

Rachel held her breath as the woman came right next to the glass, not even realizing she stood there. All kinds of thoughts and possibilities ran through her head—if the woman discovered her, what then? What if she didn't? What if the woman was caught? She pressed a hand to the glass, desperately wanting to get the woman's attention but yet not wanting to startle her. Right now she was busy writing something down, and Rachel could only make out a few words. They appeared to be just notes, observations on the great machinery. The woman was also wearing gloves, she just now noticed. The woman put the notebook back in her purse, grabbing the flashlight from the desk she'd set it down on and suddenly—

Rachel was momentarily blinded. Putting a hand over her eyes, she squinted and saw the woman, now frozen to her spot, staring straight at her. Rachel gave a small smile, to show the woman she meant her no harm.

"Hi," She said in a soft voice that was not quite a whisper. The woman straightened up, immediately taking on an expression of determinedness.

"You're one of Luthor's lackeys, aren't you?" She sneered. "If you try to turn me in, I swear—"

"I don't work for Luthor," Rachel cut in. The woman looked at her incredulously.

"Then why are you here?" She asked. Rachel shook her head.

"I'm assuming that's why you're here," She nodded at the camera in the woman's hands. "You're investigating something, aren't you?" The woman paused, eyes narrowed as if scrutinizing Rachel too see if she could trust her. After a few seconds, the woman nodded.

"I am, in fact." She said. "My name is Lois Lane, I'm a reporter for The Daily Planet in Metropolis. I got a tip a few weeks ago Luthor's doing something big—something a bit suspicious. I came here to see what it was."

"Then maybe you can help me," Rachel said, hands pressed against the glass. "What Luthor is doing—I'm not quite sure you'll believe me, but—"

"I'll believe anything right now." Lois said, a look of exasperation in her eyes. "From my notes, my observations, I can't make heads or tails of what Luthor's up to."

"He's bringing the dead back to life." Rachel explained firmly. Lois's eyes widened, taking an unsure step back.

"But—but—"

"It's true," Rachel insisted. "I'm Rachel Dawes, from Gotham City. I'm not sure exactly how long ago, but sometime in the past month I was killed in an explosion. Luthor somehow got a hold of my body…he _did_ something, planted some kind of computer chip in my brain…and now I'm alive again." She shook her head. "I'm not quite sure how it happened, or why me, or anything. All I know is that if I don't get out of here, I'm going to be spending the remainder of my life being tested on. Please, Lois, you've got to help me." Rachel pleaded. Lois stared at her sympathetically, but there was still a mark of skepticism etched on her face.

"Do you have any proof?" She asked. Rachel sighed, shaking her head.

"Why else would I be locked up here in the middle of the night?" Lois hesitated, hand on the door-handle.

"I suppose you're right," She said. "Since you're an actual witness, we can—"

_"THERE IS AN INTRUDER IN LAB 2-A," _An alarm sounded, a computerized voice ringing through the room. _"I REPEAT, THERE IS AN INTRUDER IN LAB 2-A,"_

Lois pulled open the door, grabbing Rachel's wrist and pulling her along as she sprinted to the nearest exit.

"Come on!" She yelled over the alarms. "I know a safe way out!" Rachel only nodded, senses overwhelmed. Only now she realized her feet were bare; the hard metal floors were cold and painful to stand on if you weren't wearing a pair of shoes. Rachel had always been a fast runner—she had to be, living in a place like Gotham were running as fast as you could from a dark alley could save your life—but now she was being more pulled along than anything. She was clumsy on her feet, nearly tripping through the halls as they got closer and closer to the exit.

"Catch them!" Luthor's voice yelled. "Catch them, you idiots!" Rachel turned her head to see the group of scientists and a few body guards, and even Luthor trying to reach them. When one of the burly watchmen nearly caught up, she started moving faster on a burst of adrenaline that filled her body with energy. She forgot all about the pain and slowness that had inhabited her limbs before—she had to get away, no matter how much it hurt.

"This way!" Lois exclaimed as they made a sharp turn. Before Rachel could realize what was happening, she was falling fast. She turned her head to look up—Lois was right above her. The landing came too fast. Rachel hit the ground, tearing her knee up on the harsh cement ground. Lois landed next to her, with only a few scratches on her hands. Lois stood, holding out a hand for Rachel. She saw the knee and grimaced.

"Are you going to be all right?" She asked. Rachel stared at the injury, watching as almost instantaneously the skin began to grow, covering the wound and essentially healing it. 'This is what Luthor meant by regeneration,' She thought to herself. She stood up, turning to Lois.

"What—but how—" The woman blubbered, eyes wide. She was growing very, very pale. Rachel shook her head.

"I'll explain later. We need to go, now!" Lois nodded, and they started off on a sprint again. They were outside now—having fallen down some kind of garbage chute (there was a dumpster nearby), running through a field under the night sky. Rachel didn't waste time to see if the thugs were catching up on them. There was a car at the end of the field, most likely Lois's, and they were nearly there.

The two reached the car, Lois climbing in the driver's seat and starting it up, beginning to drive as soon as Rachel managed to get in the passenger's seat, shutting the door behind her. They were silent as the car sped down the road, Rachel's heart beating so hard it felt as if it would burst out of her chest at any moment. There was a numbness spreading through her arm and pain was beginning to rise in her chest. She felt sick, and was beginning to sweat, her head feeling light and the pain spreading to her back and jaw. She realized, without any hesitation, that she was having a heart attack.

Lois, noticing something was wrong, looked over at Rachel briefly.

"Are you okay?" She asked. Rachel nodded. If Luthor was right, a heart attack couldn't kill her. She'd be fine, wouldn't she? Besides, if she went to a hospital it would only end in chaos. She was supposed to be dead. What kind of dead person shows up in the emergency room, walking and breathing, with a heart attack?

The pain increased, seeming almost worse than the white-hot waves she'd been suffering from earlier. She shut her eyes tight, curling up into a ball and waiting for it to pass. It was all she could do.

"Rachel, what's wrong?" Rachel glanced over at Lois, opening one eye. She shook her head.

"Nothing. I'm fine," She barely managed to say. Burying her head in her arms, she tried to block out the pain and think of something else. What was she going to do now? Where was she going to stay? If everyone thought she was dead, what could she do? She only realized now she hadn't thought any of it through until this moment. The pain began to subside, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God. She looked up, seeing that they were still on the country road. There was a city in the distance—Metropolis? Was that their destination?

"We're going to my house," Lois said, as if she had read Rachel's mind. "We have a guest room you can spend the night in. Although, I'm not sure how I'm going to explain all this to Richard," A small smile passed her lips. "He's my fiancé. We have a son—Jason—he's only six. He _should_ be in bed by now, but knowing Richard they're probably up watching movies that'll give both of them nightmares."

"You don't need to let me stay—" Rachel tried to protest. Lois shook her head.

"Nonsense. You have nowhere to go at the moment. It'd be incredibly rude of me not to let you stay." Lois smiled. "You said you're from Gotham, right?" Rachel nodded, grateful for Lois's hospitality.

"Yes, actually. I was born and raised there," She said.

"I've never been to Gotham," Lois said. "I never wanted to, seeing as how it's one of the largest centers of crime in the country. My boss is sending me there, though, to write an article on Batman. Maybe you'd like to come with me…?"

Rachel stared out the window. It was a tempting offer. Right now, she'd give anything to be back in Gotham and see the people she loved again. But that wasn't possible anymore, was it? If Harvey, or Bruce, or anyone who knew she was supposed to be dead saw her, what would happen? Everything would be in an uproar. She couldn't afford that right now.

"No," She shook her head. "Lois, they all think I'm dead. I don't think I can ever see any of them again."

It was silent for a moment. Then, Lois spoke.

"Do you really think you can rebuild your life?" She asked. "Can you forget everyone you've left behind, the people you love and care about?"

"I—I don't know," Rachel admitted. Then she thought about it for a moment. "Yes," She said. "I think I can." Lois let out a small sigh as the car pulled into the driveway of a large house.

"Then you're a stronger person than me," She said, taking the key out of the ignition and climbing out. Rachel followed, pausing a moment to stare across the river at the huge city. It was beautiful, light shining and sparkling like a jewel. It was almost the opposite of Gotham, in a way. It even had its own protector, Superman, who Rachel had only read about in the papers and seen on the news. Lois Lane…she was the woman who had interviewed Superman so many times in the past, wasn't she?

"Rachel!" Lois called from the front door. Rachel turned away from the waters and followed her inside. It was a beautiful house, much nicer than the apartment she had back in Gotham. She followed Lois up a set of stairs to the living room. There was a man on the sofa, presumably Richard, with a little boy asleep on his lap. She had to smile; it was a very sweet image, much nicer than anything she'd gone though the past couple of weeks.

"Hi, honey," Richard smiled as Lois leaned down to kiss him. "Get some work done?"

"Loads," Lois pried the little boy from his arms and picked him up, placing a kiss on the sleeping child's forehead. "Why isn't he in bed?"

"He insisted we watch the new Spiderman movie." Richard grinned and stood up, stretching out his arms. It was only then he noticed Rachel standing at the top of the stairs. "Who's your friend?" He asked. "And…why is she dressed like that?"

Rachel felt her cheeks grow red as she realized she was in something close to a hospital gown, a bit short for her liking. Lois looked over at Rachel, not sure of what to say.

"I'm Rachel Dawes," She smiled and stepped forward. "My—uh, you see, I was in the hospital recently, and after I was released I had nowhere to go. I'm an old friend of Lois's, so she offered to let me stay here for a little while." Lois smiled, nodding.

"That's right. I've known Rachel since high school." Richard looked at the two suspiciously.

"Really, then? Why don't you ever talk about her, Lois?"

"We lost touch after graduation," Lois explained. "I was doing an article on the quality of the hospital and bumped into her there."

It was a nice save, not without its holes but good enough for Richard to believe it. Richard took Jason from Lois and put him to bed, while Lois led Rachel to her room.

"I think we're about the same size," Lois said. "My pajamas should fit you. Our guest room is over on the left side of the hall, right next to Jason's room." She rummaged through a drawer in the walk-in closet and finally handed an over-sized nightshirt and baggy sweatpants to Rachel. Rachel just stood uncomfortably, a question nagging her in the back of her mind. She finally worked up the courage to ask it.

"Do you lie to your family a lot?" She asked. Lois paused, half-way through shutting the drawer. For a moment, Rachel waited in silence.

"Kind of," Lois said finally. "There's something big—something neither of them know and I don't know if they ever will, or if—" She frowned, biting her lip. "—or if I'll be forced to tell. I don't know."

Rachel thought of Bruce's secret, how badly she wanted to tell Harvey and how badly she wanted to tell the entire world when everyone thought it was Harvey instead. It was really only a few months ago, but it seemed much, much longer.

"I know the feeling," She said quietly. A knock came from the bedroom door.

"Is it okay for me to come in?" Richard's voice sounded. "Or is Rachel getting dressed in there?"

Lois snapped out of her reverie, standing up and brushing off her skirt.

"Oh, no, you can come in!" She said, rushing to the door and opening it. "Rachel was just going to go to the guest room now anyway." Rachel followed, giving a faint smile to Richard as she moved past him down the hall. She entered the guest room, a clean, refreshing room, and shut the door behind her. She changed wordlessly, almost thoughtlessly, feeling numb and tired from her experience. All she wanted now was sleep. She folded her hospital gown and put it on a chair in the corner, climbing under the heavy, warm covers and falling asleep before she even realized it.

The next morning, Rachel awoke to the sight of an old-fashioned alarm clock on her bedside. It was eight-thirty, and someone was knocking on the bedroom door.

"Yes?" Rachel called, taking a second to recall everything that had happened the previous night. She groaned, rubbing her temples as a strange, confusing sort of pain started in her head and quickly passed as soon as she got her thoughts together.

"Breakfast is ready," Lois called. "There's some clothes hanging on the outside of the door. Get up as soon as you can, all right? I'm taking you with me today."

Rachel swung her legs over the side of the bed, stretching her arms and walking, in a sort of daze, to the door and opening it. Lois had returned to the kitchen and, from the sound of it, was trying to convince her son to eat something he just wouldn't. There was a nice blouse, jacket, and skirt hanging on the doorknob with a pair of black heels next to the doorframe. Rachel dressed quickly (although the shoes were a size too big, and the blouse was a bit tight) and headed to the kitchen.

Richard stood at the stove, making a batch of pancakes, some already piled on a plate in the middle of the table. Lois was sitting with Jason, a plate with a few syrup-smothered pancakes before them.

"But it's yummy!" Lois insisted. "It tastes very good, doesn't it, Jason?"

"I want cereal!" The little boy complained. Lois sighed, shaking her head.

"Never before have I met a child who preferred cereal over pancakes." She said. Then, looking up, she noticed Rachel and smiled. "Good morning. You slept well?"

"Yes, it was very nice, thank you." Rachel took a seat. "You said you were taking me with you. Does that mean—"

"I'm going to try to get you a job as a secretary at the Daily Planet," Lois explained. "I need one, after my last one quite a few days ago. You do have secretarial training, right?" Rachel nodded.

"I was a secretary for a year while trying to get into law school. I think I still remember how it goes." Lois smiled.

"Perfect! There's a few people I'll need to introduce you to, then."

"Like Uncle Perry," Richard began, turning from the stove to put more pancakes in the middle of the table. "And Jimmy Olsen, and Clark Kent…"

"Richard's uncle runs the Daily Planet." Lois explained. "He's my boss. Jimmy's our photographer, and Clark…well, he's Clark. Everybody likes Clark."

"Why does everybody like Clark?" Rachel asked.

"He's just a generally nice person." Richard answered. "Your average guy. It's like he doesn't have a single cell in his body to devote to being mean. He works hard and gets the job done. Very reliable."

"I've known him for years, longer than I've known Richard, in fact. He's one of my best friends. You'd probably take to him pretty well, too."

Rachel ate breakfast, her first meal being resurrected, and was left wondering about this Clark fellow. She wondered if she really could make new friends in this new life she was supposed to lead. There was Lois, who was the closest thing Rachel had to a friend at the moment, but she still didn't know Richard too well. Hopefully working at the Daily Planet and living here would get her used to a normal life. But honestly, Rachel's life had never been 'normal'. She was the best friend of a billionaire, for one thing, and anyone who grew up in Gotham City did not really have a healthy sense of normality to begin with.

It was odd, she thought, as Lois drove them to work, how peaceful Metropolis was. Well, compared to Gotham, at least. She wasn't used to living in a place where you didn't see gangs or graffiti on every street corner. She really only half-listened as Lois continued to brief her on the various reporters and photographers of the Daily Planet; she was too busy craning her neck to see out the window. It was so clean here, it seemed almost like a dream.

"And Sharon is not someone who I'd—"

"Um, excuse me, Lois," Rachel said, turning back to her. "What does Superman do around here? It doesn't seem like there's any crime at all. It's a bit…well, forgive me for sounding paranoid, but it's a bit suspicious, actually." Lois stared at her for a second. Thank goodness it was a red light. Then she burst out into laughter.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Rachel," She apologized, her giggles fading. "I mean, that's probably to be expected, coming from someone who lived in Gotham. Metropolis has just always seemed like a normal city to me." She shrugged. "Of course, you've got your criminals and thugs every once in a while, and some time ago there was even a small gang war on the lower side. Most of the small stuff the police force takes care of, but when something major happens it's always Superman who saves the day. Like, say, the metro is about to crash. Usually in the last few seconds, Superman comes and saves everyone from a fiery death."

"Oh." Rachel seemed a bit disillusioned. Did Metropolis even need Superman anymore? There was so much crime in Gotham sometimes it seemed as if Batman would never be able to clean all of it up. Some of the criminals just kept coming back. And so why didn't Superman help? Bruce needed someone else to help him out sometimes, no matter how much he denied it.

"I kind of imagine there's some sort of unspoken, mutual agreement between Batman and Superman," Lois suddenly said, as if answering Rachel's question. "Gotham is Batman's city. Superman may save everyone he can, but even with his super speed he can't manage to save every single person out there. If Batman never showed up, who knows how long it would take for Superman to reach Gotham? It's thankful that Batman appeared when he did."

Rachel thought for a moment, deciding she agreed with her. Besides, there were other superheroes, weren't there? There was Wonderwoman and Green Arrow and the Flash, and none of them had ever been to Gotham, either. Did the major crime rates intimidate them? Or was it just claimed as 'Batman's Territory'?

"We're here," Lois announced, side-parking the car and climbing out. Rachel looked up to see an immensely tall building with a large globe on the top. It was very pristine, with lots of people going in and out. Rachel got out of the car also, following Lois inside. She felt kind of strange as she did it.

'This is it,' She thought to herself. 'This is the start of my new life.'

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well, here it is. I've been working on this thing forever, and I've only finished chapter one. This is a different sort of 'what-if'. Maggie Gyllenhaal really made me love Rachel more than Katie Holmes ever did. After she died, I was really upset. I know there was a reason for her death, but I kept thinking, what if she never died? What would happen then? Better yet, what if she was brought back to life? Don't worry, Rachel's getting to Gotham at some point, but I've got to build up her relationship with Lois first, and she hasn't even met Superman yet. Will Rachel realize that Superman is really Clark Kent in disguise? Who knows? Reviews with constructive info are really helpful (:


	2. Chapter 2

**A New Chance**

**by NoStoryLeftUntold**

_After dying in a fiery explosion, Rachel Dawes is presumed dead by everyone. But after being brought back via science experiment, how will Rachel handle her new chance to fix what went wrong? Superman crossover. HxR, BxR, even some SxR and SxL._

* * *

"Clark."

The man didn't even look up from the papers on his desk. They were piled nearly a mile high, it seemed, and the look on his face was...well, he just simply looked overwhelmed. He was very handsome, tall with dark hair and bright blue eyes. If it weren't for the glasses, Rachel thought. Not that glasses were a bad thing. She'd seen pictures of Harvey in middle school, who'd gotten glasses in the seventh grade and kept them until he graduated high school, where he traded them in for contacts. Harvey didn't look half bad with glasses. But Clark's glasses were a little too big for his face, with huge, square lenses and thick frames. The kind of glasses that had gone out of style ages ago, for good reason. He was dressed sensibly in a suit and penny loafers, in a very no-nonsense kind of way. Something about him seemed oddly familiar. Rachel couldn't exactly figure out what it was, but it kept bothering her. Beside her, Lois rolled her eyes and leaned across the desk, her face inches from the other reporter's.

"Earth to Clark Kent!"

"Wha--? Oh! Lois! Hi!" He jumped a bit, startled, papers flying all over the place. He gave a sheepish smile as he kneeled down to the floor to pick them all up. Lois and Rachel began to help, Lois with an exasperated look on her face and Rachel trying to suppress her laughter.

"Clark, I'd like you to meet my new secretary, Lydia Powell." Lois gestured at her. They'd come up with the alias earlier that morning, to avoid suspicion. Lois was able to pull up some papers, false proof of 'Lydia's' existence, thanks to one of her contacts. Rachel gave a small wave and smiled at him. Clark shook her hand, an eager and almost boyish look on his face.

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Powell," He said. "I hope you find your stay at the Planet enjoyable."

"Thank you," Rachel said, a bit taken aback by his politeness. "I hope I will, too."

"I'm going to be off in the city today, interviewing people, and Jason has something at his school after lunch. Clark, I know you're not doing anything too terribly important at the moment—can you help show Ra—I mean, Lydia around? Introduce her to people? I'm really busy, and I just don't have the time." Lois explained hastily. Clark looked at her, eyebrows raised, giving an understanding nod.

"Sure, Lois," He said. "I've just got a few stories to type up, nothing really major." He stood , setting his pile of papers on the desk and helping both Lois and Rachel to their feet. He's certainly a gentleman, Rachel thought. Were all men in Metropolis like this? She wasn't used to such courtesy from an ordinary person you met a minute ago.

"Lane!" A voice barked from across the office. The three whipped around to see a man, in his late fifties to early sixties, who was very angry and turning an odd shade of red. Well, that had answered Rachel's question. "What is this I hear from Richard about a new secretary? I thought the agency was going to send one!"

"I've found the perfect replacement," Lois explained. She put a hand on Rachel's shoulder. "Mister White, meet Lydia Powell. She's had secretarial training, and she really needs this job, so—"

"We _do not_ give out jobs based on pity parties, Lois." The man said sharply. "But Richard seems to think that she'll do a fine job, so for the moment, she's all right. But if she makes one mistake, Lois, then you fire her on the spot, hear me?" Lois nodded. Mr. White gave a small sigh, and then turned to Rachel.

"You have one chance, Miss Powell. Don't screw it up." And then he left as suddenly as he came, stomping away with a strangely angry look about him. Lois ran a hand through her hair, shaking her head.

"Look, I really got to go. I'm going to be late at this point." She said, turning to Clark and Rachel. "Clark, you've got this handled, right?" He gave a small nod and opened his mouth to say something, when Lois cut him off. "Good," She said. "I got to run. See you two later." She hurried off in the direction of her office, leaving Rachel and Clark alone. The two stood in silence for a moment, when Clark broke the ice.

"So, Miss Powell!" He smiled that same polite smile from before. "Welcome to the Planet. I promise Mr. White's not like that all the time—well, actually," Clark paused for a moment. "He is." Rachel laughed.

"Call me Lydia," She said. "And don't worry, I've worked with harsh bosses before. I think I can handle Mr. White just fine, thanks."

"Lydia, then. So, if you don't mind me asking, what caused you to apply for this job? Do you know Lois?" Rachel hesitated. What did she tell Richard last night?

"I need it, honestly." She said. "I'm broke at the moment, and Lois is a good friend from high school. When she heard I was fired from my job and lost my apartment, she volunteered to let me stay with her and offered me a job here. It was very gracious of her, and I'm incredibly grateful." Rachel thanked whatever deity there was that she was at least a halfway decent liar.

"Lois is a good person," Clark agreed. "Here, there's Jimmy, the photographer." He pointed at a young man with a camera around his neck, chatting with a girl wearing too much makeup on the opposite side of the room. "Jimmy! Over here!"

Clark introduced Rachel to everyone, it seemed. By lunch break, there was not one person in the office who hadn't spoken to her. Thankfully, none of them connected her with the dead girl from Gotham. Rachel sat at Clark's desk, eating a sandwich from the platter that'd been brought into the office from a grateful politician who Lois made look good, having a pleasant conversation with him.

"How did you meet Lois?" Rachel asked. She could only assume the two had been friends for quite a while, since apparently they knew one another before even Richard came into the picture. Rachel wondered if there was any sort of a romantic history between them.

"Oh, it was years ago." Clark smiled, memories from long ago coming back as if they'd happened yesterday. His mouth opened to speak, when all of a sudden he just froze up. Rachel raised an eyebrow.

"Are you okay, Clark?" She asked. Clark just shook his head, standing up and walking out of the room.

"I-I just remembered I have to be somewhere." He said. "I'm sorry, Lydia, I have to go." Rachel was left sitting there, a half-eaten sandwich in hand, wondering what the hell just happened. It was almost like—well, it was almost like how Bruce sometimes had to disrupt whatever conversation he was in to become Batman for a while. But that was silly. Clark wasn't a superhero. Actually, Rachel thought to herself, he'd make a rather lousy one. He was too nice, easily embarrassed, and he just didn't seem the type. A man like Clark could never face the likes of the Joker, or even Scarecrow for that matter.

"He does that a lot." A voice said from behind. Rachel gasped, dropping her sandwich and jumping nearly half an inch off her chair. She turned to see it was only Jimmy, arms crossed with a nonchalant look on his face.

"Really?" Rachel said, cleaning up the remains of the sandwich. Crap. She was still hungry, too.

"Yeah. It's kind of odd, actually. But Clark's an oddball, so I guess it isn't _that_ weird." Jimmy gave a small laugh. "Look, I'm sorry about the sandwich. I could get you something, you know."

"No, no, it's fine." Rachel stood, brushing crumbs from her skirt. She glanced over at the clock. It was one seventeen in the afternoon. She hadn't even been resurrected a full day yet. And yet life carried on as normal.

"Well, I mean, there's this great seafood place down the block that I—"

Was he asking her out? Rachel stared at him, dumbfounded. Was she even still technically with Harvey? She was legally dead, but—but she'd said yes to his marriage proposal. That'd made them engaged, didn't it? Sure, Jimmy was cute. Certainly not her type, but cute in an endearing kind of way. He was funny and she liked him, but they only met a few hours ago. And she was engaged to Harvey!

"Uh, Lydia?"

Suddenly, she realized. Oh, right. She couldn't ever see Harvey again. A sort of heaviness filled her, melancholic and depressing. He was gone from her life now, forever. She bit her lower lip tightly. Rachel had never had much luck in love, but this was the biggest screw-over of all.

"Liiii-deeeee-uuuuhhhh?" Jimmy gave her a slight shake, grasping her shoulders firmly. Rachel snapped back to reality.

"W-what?" She said, once again startled. Oh, yeah, Jimmy had been talking. Rachel frowned apologetically. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry, Jimmy, I was just thinking—"

"It's all right," Jimmy gave her a weak smile. "I get rejected all the time, no worries. Besides, what am I thinking? Obviously you have a thing for Clark—"

"_What?!_" Rachel stared at him in shock. A thing for...? Where did he even _get _these ideas? Sure, some of his mannerisms reminded her of Harvey, but she'd only just met Clark. "Jimmy, I think you're mistaken—"

"No, really! It's okay!" He grinned and gave her a pat on the shoulder. "Go get 'im. It's been a while since Clark's had a date, anyway." Jimmy traipsed away, a knowing look on his face. Rachel just stood there in utter disbelief. How could he think...? How could she even think of dating anyway, now, so soon after...well, after everything that had happened?

"Hey, look at the television!" Someone cried. "It's Superman!"

Rachel immediately turned her attention to the large T.V. screen in the room. She could see the man in tights, not even breaking a sweat as he held up an entire building from collapsing on his back during an earthquake in California. And it really bothered her, how much he looked like someone she'd seen before, but she just couldn't think of who it was. Suddenly, the crowd surrounding the building burst into cheers as it'd been confirmed everyone had been evacuated. Once the area was clear, there was nothing left to do. Superman let go and the building collapsed. For a second, everyone paused. Where was he? Had he been crushed? But the strong, muscular hero soon flew up from the rubble, dirty but unharmed. He gave everyone a smile and flew away.

Rachel didn't know whether she was impressed or not. Yeah, he'd saved a whole bunch of people from being crushed, but...it wasn't the same. She was used to seeing criminals tied up in jail as a sign a superhero was doing their work. It was a good thing he did, though. She wondered just where Superman went, anyway, after he'd saved people. No doubt he had a secret identity, but honestly, how did he manage to pull it off? He never wore a mask or anything. It'd be hard to keep people from recognizing him all the time.

"Hi, Lydia! Miss me?" Clark's voice said. She turned around and smiled at the sight of the slightly disheveled man.

"You missed it," She said. "Superman just saved some people from a collapsing building." Clark nodded, suddenly looking extremely sheepish.

"Yeah, well. Here in Metropolis we hear about Superman all the time. Missing one thing he did won't hurt." Rachel felt someone nudge her. She looked and saw it was Jimmy, who winked and walked past. She glared at him and sighed.

"Did Jimmy tells you what he thinks about us?" She asked Clark. He raised an eyebrow.

"'Us'?"

"Yes, us." She nodded and his cheeks turned red. For a second she might've thought he really did like her in that way, but then again, Clark was easily embarrassed. Those two words seemed to fit him better than anything.

"Well...uh...no, I haven't." He said.

"Good. You don't want to." She said, making a face. Clark nodded and took a step back.

"I'm going to go back to my desk. I still have a lot of work to do." He said. "Anyway, it looks like Lois is back. Gotta run!" Rachel stared after him, wondering how he got that idea. Lois was nowhere in sight. It was then she saw the reporter walk in through the door, looking extremely tired. That was odd. Maybe Clark was just a lucky guesser.

"Hello, Lois." Rachel said. "Rough day?" Lois sat down at her desk and moaned, burying her head in her arms.

"You don't know the half of it." She said. "None of the people I was supposed to interview showed up, so I spent the day in a wild goose chase around the city. Then, when I go to Jason's school, he's apparently in trouble for climbing all the way to the top of a tree. I don't even know how he did it! He's nowhere near strong enough, he'd get an asthma attack before he reached the third branch!" Rachel smiled.

"Well, it's not like he flew up there or anything, right? Maybe he was just really determined." She said. Lois froze.

"What did you say?" Her voice was weak and she looked pale.

"I mean, little kids don't fly—" Rachel tried to explain, thinking Lois might be just too tired to get the joke.

"R-right." Lois nodded, but she looked to be on the verge of tears now. "That'd be completely impossible." Rachel just gave her an odd look, but shook the comment off. Lois had had a long day, it seemed. She needed rest.

"Maybe you should go home for the day," Rachel said. "I've still got to set up my desk and whatnot, so I'll just stay and catch a taxi when it's time to go." Lois thought about it for a moment.

"That sounds like a good idea," She said. "I didn't get very much sleep last night, anyway."

"My fault, huh?" Rachel asked teasingly. Lois laughed.

"Totally. Thanks, Rachel." She paused. "So, how did things go with Clark?"

"He's really nice." Rachel said. "He introduced me to everyone and everything. But...ah...Jimmy Olsen tried to ask me on a date, I think."

"_Really_?" Lois giggled. "I can see that."

"And when I turned him down, he thought it was because I have a thing for Clark." Rachel said, shaking her head. "Clark's a good man and all, but...even if I did have those sorts of feelings for him, it'd feel like I was cheating on Harvey." Lois looked at her peculiarly.

"Harvey?"

"Harvey Dent. We were engaged, before I died." Rachel explained. "I really loved him, and I thought...I thought we were going to spend the rest of our lives together. But now, I can't really see him again, can I?"

Lois just stared at her in silence, pity easy to see on her face. She took Rachel's hand, trying to show her sympathy.

"I'm so sorry, Rachel." She said. "I keep forgetting how hard this must be for you. If I was separated from Richard and Jason and everybody else I care about...I don't know how I could survive. You're an extremely brave person. I hope this all works out." Rachel nodded.

"Thanks." She said quietly. "I appreciate it." And she did. Who knew what would happen to her if Lois hadn't decided to break into the lab that night? She shuddered to think about it. This life was so much better than one spent in a lab, even if it meant having no contact with anyone she knew before.

"I have to go, now." Lois stood up, giving Rachel a small smile. "I'll see you at home."

"Bye," Rachel waved as Lois gathered her things and left. She gave a small sigh, stretching her arms and walking over to her own desk. It was completely bare, of course, save for a computer and a chair. She sat down, and suddenly an idea popped into her head.

It wouldn't hurt to _check_ on Harvey and Bruce, would it? Just...google their names and read the most recent article? Just to keep up. If she couldn't talk to them, she could at least be aware of what they were doing.

The first name she entered into the search box was Bruce's. She clicked, and suddenly millions of hits appeared on the screen. She clicked on the first link that had the subtitle 'NEWS ARTICLE' next to it.

* * *

**LOCAL BILLIONAIRE DONATES STATUE TO CITY IN MEMORY OF FALLEN DISTRICT ATTORNEY**

Bruce Wayne, Gotham City's most well-known billionaire, has decided to donate a large bronze statue of Harvey Dent, former D.A., to the city to commemorate the man's death. After Dent's horrific death two months ago, the city has been in an uproar. Crime rates are soaring, criminals now unafraid now that the district attorney is gone.

"This statue will stand for everyone Mr. Dent, a good friend of mine, once stood for." Wayne said. "Above all else, justice for all." Mr. Wayne is more well known for his escapades with women than his philanthropic duties. However, it seems that not even this rich playboy can leave the horrible loss alone.

The statue stands in Gotham Square, ten feet tall, an iconic image of Dent looking towards the sky. The words "JUSTICE FOR ALL" are engraved into the pedestal, along with a placard that states "IN LOVING MEMORY OF HARVEY DENT, D.A., 1968-2008", a sure sign that even in the tumultuous decades to come, Gotham will not forget about the district attorney that inspired a flame of justice in such a squalid city.

* * *

Rachel stared at the article, a feeling of shock washing over her.

Harvey...is dead. He...he...couldn't be. It was impossible. Bruce had saved him! She knew it, it had to be true. She quickly went back to the search box and furiously typed in Harvey's name. What she found only confirmed her nightmares.

According to the articles, Harvey had been assassinated by a mob member after recovering from severe burn injuries in the hospital.

Rachel couldn't breathe.

"Are you okay, Lydia?" Someone said. Clark. It sounded like Clark. He stood over her, a concerned look on his face. "You're extremely pale, and you look like...Lydia?" She found she couldn't answer. Her chest hurt, and tears rose in her eyes although she couldn't bring herself to cry. She blinked—hard—and they ran down her cheeks. It felt like someone punched her in the gut. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't....she couldn't...

"I..." Her voice was extremely shaky. She swallowed. "I don't know." She tried to let out a shuddery breath, but couldn't. Her hands suddenly started pushing down on her thighs, a nervous habit.

"Do you need a ride?" Clark asked, a little softer. He walked around the desk and put a hand on her shoulder. "I don't think you can work in this state."

Rachel broke down into tears, and Clark just stood there, not really sure of what to do.

Around half an hour later, Rachel was sitting in the passenger's seat of Clark's car, staring out the window and not saying a word. Traffic. Perfect. She'd agreed to let him drive her home, but she still couldn't get over her initial shock. Her mind was racing with thoughts.

_Severe burn injuries...oh god oh god and he was shot and was there blood there was probably blood Harvey's blood everywhere everywhere everywhere—_

"I don't know what happened." Clark said firmly, trying to break the awkward silence. "I don't know why you were so upset back there, and if you don't want to tell me, that's fine. But I just want you to know that I'm here for you, Lydia, if you do." He didn't sound so nervous any more, like he had when they'd met earlier in the day. Rachel really only half heard him, she was too wrapped up in her own thoughts to really notice. But she looked over at him, anyway, trying to manage a smile but failing horribly.

"Thanks," She said. Her voice still trembled.

"And I'm sorry," He said. The normal uncomfortable tone he had had returned to his voice. "For whatever happened. When somebody gets upset like that...you know it's bad."

"Yeah," Rachel said. She felt incredibly weak, like all that crying had drained the life out of her. She wanted to curl up in a ball and just forget. A part of her suddenly hated Bruce—hated Bruce _so damn much_—for not saving Harvey. He _could've._ She knew he could've. There was another part of her that was just relieved he was alive but her hatred overpowered that. How could she be glad Bruce was alive when Harvey was dead? When Harvey died—what did he think? What were his last words? Did he believe he was going to join her in heaven?

'If heaven even exists, he's in for a cruel surprise,' Rachel thought. If Luthor hadn't brought her back to life...maybe they would be together now.

'No.' A voice said in her mind. 'Don't you dare think that. If Harvey had a choice, he would've wanted you to live, and you are. So live for Harvey, if you need a reason to stay here. Just don't let yourself die.' Rachel was more frightened than anything at that moment to find she was much more scared of death than she originally thought. And then she spoke.

"Clark," It was very soft, and he could barely hear. "If someone you loved died...would you want to die too, so you could be with them?" He looked at her, realization dawning on him.

"Oh." He said. "_Oh._ I see." He was quiet for a moment. "No, I don't think so. If I really loved someone, and they really loved me, they wouldn't want me to be dead. They'd want me to be happy." Rachel thought. It made sense...she knew that what Harvey wanted more than anything, maybe even more that Gotham's safety, was her happiness.

"You give great advice, Clark." She said. She almost giggled when a faint pink tinge appeared on his cheeks. Almost.

"People tell me that," He said, flustered. "Like I should write an advice column or something. Half the advice I give ends up putting people in trouble a lot, so there you go."

"You understand people, though." She said. "It's hard to come across anyone who really does these days, especially where I'm from." She was a bit relieved when Clark didn't ask where she was from. Answering that would only lead to talking about Batman...Bruce. And she couldn't get over the hate growing in her belly to do that right now.

It was six thirty when Clark had finally dropped Rachel off. He waved goodbye from his car, and she smiled and waved back, entering the large house feeling much better. Maybe it was her talk with Clark. Despite his protests, he really _was_ good at giving advice. There was a strong smell coming from the kitchen. Rachel kicked off her heels, feet sore, and followed her nose. She was starving.

"Hi, Rachel. Did you get settled in?" Lois stood at one of the counters, assaulting a slab of dough with a rolling pin. Richard was cutting up a chicken that looked extremely delicious. Jason sat at the table, rolling a tiny Hot Wheels car across the surface. A happy family, getting ready for dinner.

"Mostly, yeah." She nodded and took a seat next to the little boy. Lois looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

"Your eyes are red," She said. "Have you been crying?"

"I just...yeah. I was." Rachel said. "I got news that someone I care about is dead." Lois suddenly looked extremely sympathetic, setting down the rolling pin and brushing flour from her blouse.

"I'm sorry," She said quietly. "If you're not hungry, you can just—"

"No, no, I am." Rachel insisted. "It smells wonderful. Richard's a great cook. I just...I need to come to terms with it, that's all." Everyone was silent. Even Jason stopped his fire truck sound effects and was staring at her.

"Who was it?" Jason suddenly blurted out. "Was it a fire or a war or something?"

"Jason!" Richard said sternly. "That's not appropriate. Apologize to Miss Rachel."

"Sorry, Miss Rachel." Jason said, looking slightly embarrassed. Rachel frowned. For a second there...he looked kind of like Clark. No, she was just seeing things. Most people looked the same when they were embarrassed.

"It's fine, Jason." She said. "I'd just prefer it if you don't ask questions, please."

Dinner was done ten minutes later, and it was accompanied by a long discussion about mundane things that families normally talked about at dinner. Rachel felt strangely out of place. She had never been in these kinds of talks. Growing up, she mostly ate dinner alone while her mom was out working to support them. She was glad that not every kid had to go through that. Mostly just the kids in Gotham City.

"I'm heading to Gotham next Saturday," Lois proclaimed. "I'll be back Monday afternoon, I hope. Can you guys manage without me?" She glanced at Richard and Jason.

"Yeah," Richard laughed. "I'm pretty sure. What do you think, big guy? How can we handle no Mommy?"

"Freedom!" Jason threw his hands up in the air, and everyone laughed. Rachel felt strange. She didn't know if she could just watch Lois go to Gotham and not go with her. The urge to return to the city was strong. Inside her, there was still a little girl who just wanted to go home.

"Do you want to come with, Rachel?" Lois asked, as if she were reading her mind. "I could really use your help, you know. And I understand you have...acquaintances there, right?"

"I'll have to think about it," Rachel said. And then it hit her.

Going to Gotham would mean visiting Harvey's grave. Her stomach lurched. Oh god, she didn't know if she could deal with that. She was so desperate to get him out of her mind...maybe if she forgot, it wouldn't hurt so much. It still refused to sink in. Harvey is dead. Forever. No coming back. And even if he was resurrected...somehow, the thought sickened her. It wasn't natural. She would never want that for him.

"Excuse me," She said hoarsely. "I don't think I can finish." She stood and returned to her room, collapsing on the covers and not even bothering to change. She wanted sleep now. Tiredness washed over her, and she could sleep forever and not wake up as far as she was concerned. Sleep sounded so good.

Maybe if she slept she could dream Harvey was still alive. She had already sunken deep into rest by the time she half-finished that thought.

She'd have to confront Harvey's death sooner or later, the thought stayed at the back of her mind. But she decided to go to Gotham with Lois in that dream, against her better judgement.

Screw Bruce. She wanted to see Harvey again.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I have no idea why this took so long to write. It was hard to type it up, you know? I had it in my head, I just couldn't put it down. Anyway, this chapter was shorter than the last one, but I'll try to make next chapter longer. Next chapter, Rachel has a run in with everybody's favorite superhero from Krypton, but will she discover who he really is? Also, don't worry, Rachel and Lois leave for Gotham by the end of the chapter. I hope you enjoy! Thanks! Reviews are great :D


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